


Texts and Tacos

by quentinknockout



Series: Suits and Shipyards [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentinknockout/pseuds/quentinknockout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few days after their nights out collided at a dingy karaoke bar, both Davos and Stannis consider the prospect of a proper first date. And so they do. The softest, dorkiest, lamest fluff you'll ever read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Texts and Tacos

‘So, you texted him yet?’  
It was Monday afternoon, just after the gym, and Sal always got a bit lippy when Davos beat him in the ring.  
‘Who?’ Davos played dumb. He’d thought Sal was too drunk to remember anything of Saturday night, considering the eight and a half pints he’d had before staggering home from karaoke.  
‘You know… the cheekbones one… slender kinda guy… the designated driver! You got his number?’  
Davos shut the locker.  
‘Yes, and it’s none of your-’  
‘Well, you know what? We were watching you two talk. His brother was the big one… he was saying says how that particular brother of his never smiles much. But he was smiling talking to you.What a fuckin’ miracle, he said. And at a stranger.’  
Davos could feel himself colour.  
‘Well, it was probably nothing.’  
‘Just send him a text. Do it! Take the plunge, man.’ Sal punched him on the arm, noisily zipping up his gym bag.  
Sal had always been a bit overenthusiastic to set Davos up ever since… well…and it had only been five years, now. But Davos had really liked Stannis. He’d liked his sarcasm, his directness, the way he’d pulled Davos’s phone from his hand to input his number. And he’d been very handsome, fine boned with clear eyes and long lashes.  
Sal and Davos said goodnight at the gym door, and parted ways.  
Walking down Johnston St, the chilly wind at his back, Davos was still thinking of Stannis, now that Sal had brought him to his mind. He was already halfway home and he pulled out his phone from his pocket, impulsively. Fuck, just do it.  
Pausing on the corner, he tapped out a message. It was really nice to meet you the other night. If you’re free Friday, do you fancy a drink? Somewhere in the city?  
He read it over, once, and stabbed send with a thumb. Bite the bullet.  
–  
Stannis was rinsing green beans under the faucet in his shirtsleeves when his phone buzzed. He shook the water from his hands. He hoped it was a message from his daughter Shireen, typing out something on her iPad, sending him funny pictures of dogs. (Look at this one, Dad! Xx)  
But more likely it’d be a Selyse request. Or Mel, bored, hoping to last-ditch drag him out for a drink. He wiped his hands on the tea towel and went over to read.  
He saw the name next to the green bubble, Davos, and his stomach gave a little jolt.  
It was really nice to meet you the other night. If you’re free Friday, do you fancy a drink? Somewhere in the city?  
Reading, Stannis felt warm. At lunch time, instead of working like he usually did, he’d spent twenty minutes half drafting a similar invitation. His own, though, had been much harder to word and far more formal, and eventually he’d given up.  
But Davos had made it sound so easy. No pressure. If you’re free… Of course Stannis was bloody free. What did he do on a Friday night usually? Watch the news. Cook dinner. If he was lucky, play Scrabble with Shireen. He was never out.  
Stannis could recall the easy warmth of the man he’d met, his quick laugh. He wondered how much of it had been due to alcohol. He also remembered the silver in Davos’s beard, the kindness of his eyes, and, most upsettingly, the square broadness of his chest beneath his shirt.  
He waited fifteen agonising minutes before texting back.  
Sure. I work next to Bourke St. Somewhere close to there would be good?  
–  
Davos was in his kitchen too, chopping an onion for pasta sauce, when the text buzzed back. He was pleased to see Stannis’s name flash up onscreen.  
Sure. I work next to Bourke St. Somewhere close to there would be good?  
Ah. Quick, flat, unemotional, but obviously still keen. It had barely been fifteen minutes. Davos grinned, and decided on a cheekier response.  
I don’t know if you actually like getting pissed or not, but there’s a great place that does margaritas and Mexican beer. Tacos, if you’re hungry. Next to the corner of Elizabeth. Paco’s. 7?  
–  
Stannis frowned at the response. Davos was a stirrer. But he liked it. He responded in kind.  
I like a drink. Just not so many that I believe it’s acceptable to cover Bruce Springsteen. 7 at Paco’s sounds good. See you then.  
–  
Davos laughed out loud at the response that came, quickfire. Stannis was definitely sarcastic.  
Is that a dig? I’ll have you know, my rendition of I’m On Fire is very well regarded in some circles. Just you wait, I’ll drag you by the collar in somewhere and we can do some more. See you then. x  
–  
Stannis stared at the last response for a long while. He quite liked the idea of Davos dragging him by the collar somewhere. And the ‘x’ seemed sweet, if not a little forward. He elected not to reply, he didn’t want to ruin too much of a good thing.  
He looked up from his phone and realised the faucet was still running.  
–  
‘Beers tonight?’ Sal plonked down next to Davos at lunch Friday, peeling back the wrapper from his sandwich. ‘I fuckin’ need one. Only two more weeks of singledom.’  
‘If you hate her that much already, don’t marry her!’ Davos chuckled. ‘And sorry, I can’t.’  
‘Why not? What are you doing on a Friday night that isn’t drinking with me?’  
‘Got a date.’  
Sal slapped him on the back so hard he almost dropped his lunch. ‘Aha! With the one?’  
‘Yes. I texted him.’  
‘And he was up for it?’  
‘Clearly.’  
‘Well.’ Sal was grinning ear to ear. ‘Let me know how it goes. Don’t fuck it up, my man.’  
‘I’ll do my best,’ Davos was grateful lunch was almost over.  
–  
‘Where are you going?’  
It was past 6pm, and Mel was standing in the door, bright red hair swinging as she pulled on her coat. From outside the glass wall, she’d seen Stannis taking the pressed shirt out from his desk drawer.  
He cringed. He hadn’t wanted her to see, lest she ask any questions.  
‘I’m going out. I have to meet… Selyse. For dinner. Talk about Shireen’s new school. They want to put her in an accelerated class.’  
Before he’d even finished the sentence he knew it wouldn’t work. Mel folded her arms and smiled. She knew he was lying. He didn’t lie to her often, but somehow, when he did, she always knew.  
‘Who are you really meeting?’ she murmured.  
Stannis sighed. There was no point.  
‘I’m meeting someone. For a drink.’  
She raised her perfectly pencilled eyebrows. ‘Like a date?’  
‘I hate that word. But… yes. In a way.’  
‘Who is he?’  
‘You don’t know him.’ Stannis was quietly glad Mel had assumed his date was a man. Sometimes she seemed to know certain things without being told.  
‘How did you meet?’  
‘Out. Last week.’  
‘Wait, for Robert’s birthday? You’re joking. You were sober, weren’t you?’  
‘Yes…well…’  
‘What’s he like?’  
‘He’s funny,’ Stannis shut the desk drawer shut, disliking the interrogation. ‘Nice-looking.’  
‘Okay,’ Mel was smiling. ‘Bring him out sometime. I’d like to read him his cards.’  
Letting Mel try out her astrology bullshit would be the last thing Stannis would allow, but he was in a good mood. ‘Maybe. I’ll see you Monday.’  
–  
The bar Davos had named was a bright little taco house with a patio adorned in fairy lights. Davos was, to his own nervous annoyance, ten minutes early. He had time for a cigarette, and plucked one from the packet.  
He’d no sooner raised the lighter when a voice came by close to his ear. ‘Oh god, don’t do that.’  
Stannis was standing there, hands in pockets, in a crisp shirt the colour of plum. His mouth was down-turned, but there was a spark of humour in his eyes.  
‘You’re early,’ Davos could think of no better response. He was stunned by Stannis. He’d thought the vision of Saturday night might’ve been a little rose-tinted by alcohol. It wasn’t.  
‘Not as early as you,’ Stannis replied, who had his own quiet struggle at the cleft of Davos’s throat in his open collar, the clear blueness of his eyes.  
‘Well, we’re both here now. Drink? I’ll get the first.’  
‘Beer is fine. A pint.’  
Davos grinned. ‘Don’t go too wild, now. I won’t be scraping you off the floor like on Saturday.’  
And from that joke, that was where it was. Stannis couldn’t believe how relaxed it felt, talking to Davos. His warmth was like a well, easily sprung from beneath the surface. Davos, in turn, liked Stannis’s cleverness, his sarcasm, the dark vein of humour. His smiles were rare, but Davos had already been the recipient of three, and hoped for more.  
‘Did you tell anyone you were on a date tonight? You don’t seem to be the going-out kind of guy.’  
‘I make exceptions,’ Stannis replied dryly. ‘Yes, I did. My friend at work found out, she’s very nosy.’  
‘Ah, my mate Sal knew too. You met him the other night. I’m surprised he even remembered anything after that seventh drink.’  
‘For god’s sake. That night. My brother…Robert, he told me he woke up facedown in half a pizza. Cheese all over his face.’  
Davos chuckled. ‘Was his wife happy about that?’  
‘She isn’t happy about anything. Least of all the drunk she’s got for a husband. Though I suppose she’s happy about his paycheck. And there’s a wine cellar in their basement. That gives her a lot of joy. I think she sleeps down there most nights.’  
Davos laughed again, loudly. ‘Christ, you crack me up.’  
Stannis almost blushed at this compliment. Nobody ever much thought he was funny. He supposed not many people talked to him long enough to find out.  
They kept talking, even as the bright-eyed waitress with fluffy earrings took away their empty glasses.  
‘You’ve been married?’  
‘Divorced,’ Stannis said shortly. ‘She’s a…funny woman, my ex-wife. Quite religious. She doesn’t know I’m-’  
He stopped short, unsure.  
‘I get it,’ Davos didn’t press for any clarification. ‘I was married too. To a woman.’  
‘Divorce as well?’  
‘No… she passed away. A few years ago. I have a son, though. He’s a good lad. In his early twenties. He’s a bit religious too.’  
‘I have a daughter. She’s nine.’ Stannis couldn’t remember ever knowing someone so little and yet telling them so much about himself. But Davos was very easy to tell the truth to. ‘It’s hard, with her mother.’  
‘It can be.’ Davos’s hand tapped Stannis’s sleeve, in the barest show of sympathy, and it sent the tiniest current of heat through Stannis’s arm. Flustered, he raised the glass to his mouth, downing the rest of his beer.  
‘Last drinks,’ called the waitress from the front of the bar. Davos looked at his watch. It was after ten. They’d been there for more than three hours.  
‘Do you want to…’  
‘Walk? It’s nice out.’  
They were both secretly pleased that one finished the other’s sentence, but neither made note of it.  
The city was cold, and they made their way down by the painted alleys, past the drone of the streetsweepers.  
As they hit the corner of Beckett, Stannis, heart thudding as he did, made perhaps the boldest move he ever had in his life, slipping a hand in the crook of Davos’s elbow. Davos acted like he hadn’t noticed at first, but then his hand moved, effortlessly collecting Stannis’s in his own.  
‘You know,’ he murmured, pausing as they reached the second corner, ‘Stannis, I know this is sort of a forward thing to say on a first date. But I think I like you, a lot.’  
‘Well,’ Stannis looked anywhere but Davos’s face, a little engulfed by the sudden display, ‘I’d say… I feel the same. I’m not entirely good with people. And you’re…you’re very easy to talk -’  
He didn’t say any more because Davos had kissed him, softly, hand gently cupping his chin, and Stannis felt like someone had lit a sparkler beneath his chest, and it was snapping and hissing with spitting flame. Davos tasted of old cigarettes and the weak Mexican beer they’d just drank. And something else, cracked salt and sea air.  
‘Let’s take things easy,’ Davos murmured, when they moved apart. ‘It’s late. I’d like to see you again.’  
Tomorrow? Stannis wanted to say, but his heart was thudding so much he couldn’t speak.  
‘How’s Sunday? I can cook.’  
‘You cook?’  
‘I’m told I’m very good at it,’ Davos stepped back. ‘Why don’t you come over?’  
‘I’d… like that. Very much.’  
They kissed again, quickly on the street corner, before parting ways. It was the definition of a chaste, high school date, but Stannis walked home through the north, glowing. Even before he’d reached the front door, he’d texted Davos again.  
I’d also like you to drag me by the collar somewhere, like you suggested. Maybe not to karaoke but definitely somewhere… See you Sunday.  
Davos, almost home too, read the text and laughed at the hot spark he’d inspired in the other man.  
Now now, you’ve had a few drinks there. Don’t wake up in a pizza. X  
They both went to bed on opposite sides of the city, dizzy and smiling like teenagers. Sunday seemed a little too far away.


End file.
